


Latex Love

by CyanideRadiance



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, I have No Excuse, Its Corona Time, Latex, Miserably, PWP, Quarantine, Rayllum, Smut, except they failed, it's just shameless smut, obligatory quarantine smut, personal protective equipment, plot? never heard of her, social distancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23781061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanideRadiance/pseuds/CyanideRadiance
Summary: Quarantine has not been kind to Rayla. As she slowly becomes more desperate for interactions with the outside world, she runs into her neighbor Callum. Perhaps he can help distract her armed with latex gloves and a wicked look in his eyes.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	Latex Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MotorsandCandies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotorsandCandies/gifts).



> Soooo we can all blame MotorsandCandies for the obligatory quarantine fiiiiic. I hope you all enjoy!!

It was day “nobody gives a fuck at remembering what day it is anymore” of quarantine. Things for Rayla were getting increasingly desperate. So desperate that the sliver of skin between her neighbor Callum’s glove and his long-sleeved shirt was enough to make her flush.

Like she said.

 _Desperate_.

Not to mention it was slipping into a painfully hot summer. The sun on her skin, the sticky discomfort as she rested outside made her twitchy, eager to move. And when she caught sight of him through his window, shirt slowly inching over his head as he disappeared into his room, she found herself rushing inside for a cold shower. The small section of his back he revealed was nearly as intoxicating as his wrist.

_Desperate._

But it wasn’t her fault. The world had deprived her, and she was slowly spiraling into madness.

She stroked her horns rapidly, trying to calm her heartbeat. But it only made it pound louder. She clenched her legs, shouted at her body’s weakness. She was going to get nothing done today.

She placed on her mask, flexed her fingers through the purple latex gloves and. At least she could go get her mail.

She reached for one of the box packages, but her hand bumped into someone else’s.

She jerked away and found Callum staring at her curiously.

“Hi, Rayla. Head in the clouds again?”

_You’re hot. I miss our game nights and dinner nights. Can we just stop with the friend pretenses and get to fucking?_

But she swallowed thickly. “I- You have nice wrists.”

 _You idiot!_ she berated herself.

But he laughed, switching mail to one hand as he rolled up his sleeve. He closely examined the skin and nodded sagely. “I mean… It’s a wrist. It’s got skin over it, and it gets the job done.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she huffed, pushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s just been an off day for me.”

“It’s been an off year, really,” he corrected. Gently, he reached out his index finger and traced the point of her newly revealed ear. “It’s been a while since we hung out…” he trailed off, eyes narrowing.

She bit her lip, glad he couldn’t see the action through her mask. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Do you mind if I come over? I… I can keep my gloves on?”

She nodded hesitantly and they were quickly back at her apartment. She sighed and collapsed on the couch next to him. “I need contact with anything that’s not electronic. It’s been so long since I’ve actually felt someone else.” She swallowed as she realized how inappropriate she sounded.

But he laughed again, nodding emphatically. “Who would’ve thought brushing hands with my neighbor through latex gloves would get me all riled up,” he joked.

She resisted the urge to glance down. “Did… Did it?”

“Hm?” he put his phone down and looked at her. “Did it what?”

_Desperate._

“Get you riled up?”

She was beyond caring.

“That… Depends. Did it get _you_ riled up?” he said carefully, eyes intently scanning her face.

“Was the wrist comment not enough?” she deadpanned.

Very deliberately so as to give her a chance to move away or stop him, he wrapped a hand around one of her horns. He rubbed his thumb against the grooves marveling at the delicate and intricate shapes.

Inside, she was melting. She loved her horns being touched. It sent zings down her spine, and they started off innocent. But as his eyes darkened and her breathing deepened, the feeling changed into something dangerous.

“Callum,” she whispered and his other covered thumb wiggled beneath her mask. Pressed into her lips. The latex of the light blue glove tasted funny, but she found the rubbery feel excited her. It was something new and a much-needed reprieve from the monotony of her own hands and toys. She bit down gently as he put more pressure for her to open her mouth.

He leaned forward, pressing his covered mouth over hers. She could feel the warmth from his breath even through the material and cool latex against the skin of her hip was all she needed to sit atop of him.

“Oh, fuck. Touch me,” she begged, and he looked completely mesmerized as he peeled away her mask.

She must’ve looked like a heathen, with her chest heaving and mouth open wide. But he yanked his own mask off and colored her neck with sweet kisses.

His hand played across her belly, and she marveled at the contrast of cool, smooth latex and the warmth of his skin slowly leaching through.

She felt each one of his fingers distinctly, loving that he had five compared to her four. She brought up his other wandering hand to her face, tracing the vein of his wrist to where it disappeared under his protection. Then, she carefully ran her index down each of the grooves in his palm, the breaks in his digits.

Five whole fingers.

What did humans even need that extra one for?

She pressed her hand into his, smiling at the difference in sizes.

“You know…” she began softly. “I don’t really do this. I could very much blame quarantine, but I’ve had a crush on you for fucking ever.”

He kissed her deeply, crushing her body to his. “Did you never think it was weird how often we ran into each other? How often I invited myself in? You’re not that oblivious, are you?”

She laughed against his lips. “Clearly, I am. If we do this, you’re mine, Callum. You understand that, right? Back out now, or forever be held captivated by my latex gloved hands!” she declared, holding his face steady.

His head was tilted back, resting against her couch as she hovered over him.

He pressed a knuckle against her and bit his lip. “Don’t you dare for a second think you were anything but mine the moment you accidentally made me fall down the stairs and spent the next week trying to say it was my fault.”

She laughed, hugging his face to her chest. He placed a delicate kiss along her chest bone. “To be fair… It was your fault, and I _still_ said sorry.”

“But you _pushed_ me?”

“You shouldn’t have been standing there,” she corrected him, yanking her top off. Slowly, she ground her hips against his, reveling in the feel of his hardness through her shorts.

“And _you_ shouldn’t be- Ugh!” he gasped as she raised herself up and sat back down against him forcefully. “You shouldn’t be… Be… So oblivious to your surroundings.”

She recognized the haziness in his eyes. It was the same feeling reflected within her chest. She tugged his shirt off and made work of his button. She bit down on his bottom lip, pulling on it just slightly.

“Shut up and fuck me,” she breathed as she licked the nape of his neck.

“I don’t know, I’m not really—”

She wrapped a hand around him, slowly pushing her thumb against his warm skin. He groaned, head thrashing from side to side.

_Desperate._

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he panted out, carefully brushing a rubber index against her hardening nipples. Slowly, his other palm trailed down her body, nail made gentler by the protective gloves. He snapped the band of her underwear and raised a brow at her.

She moved to the side, balancing on his shoulder and one knee as she shimmied her last article of clothing down to an ankle. She settled over him once more and he rubbed a hand back and forth against her, making lazy circles.

She gasped, hips bucking against him. “Oh geez,” she breathed, her motions on him faltering.

“It’s been a while, huh? And quarantine hasn’t helped a bit,” he ground out and she licked at his chest.

“Mhm, mhm,” she agreed distractedly. “Maybe you should take your gloves off?” She was liking the way they felt all too much.

“I don’t think so.” His smile was wicked. “I promised I’d keep them on. For protection, remember?”

“Oh, fuck you,” she laughed as she felt him slowly dip a finger into her. Carefully, he curled his finger upwards, pressing against her walls as if to test them out. Prepare them.

In and out went one finger and then two as another continued its assault on her pulsing bud. A firestorm was building, slowly but surely. She could feel the dying embers low in her gut coming to life with every breath he breathed upon her sticky skin.

He removed his hand from her, surveying the new shine that coated him. “Perfect,” he said, licking a finger. He kissed her once more, tongue languidly pressing against her lips. Tapping at her teeth. Briefly blocking her airway as they struggled to discover other ways to mesh into one another.

She could taste herself, salty and dark. She pulled her palm from his member, smiling at the moisture on her own glove. Mimicking his actions, she lapped at it, once more surprised and pleased at the contrast of bitter latex and salty Callum.

“We can play some more another time. But please, there’s nothing more I want right now than for you to be inside of me.”

“Are you sure?”

She snorted and lined up with him, nail tracing his vein idly as she began to sink herself onto him.

“Mm, Rayla!”

“Holy shit,” she gasped, wiggling back and forth as she slid lower and lower. He seemed to fill her, and she arched her back.

They took a moment to get used to one another, but as she gradually began to rock back and forth, his hands were suddenly everywhere. Tugging at her hair, pressing into her breasts, clutching at her behind. Tracing patterns into her back and rubbing across her horns.

Soon his mouth followed.

Moist lips wrapped around her peaked nipples, pink tongue lapping against the too sensitive skin. “You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered into her, digits tangling within her hair.

He kissed upwards and began to nip at her neck, licking the stings away as rapidly as they had come.

Rayla mumbled incoherently, her hand wrapped around his exposed wrist like a vice. She wondered at the way it moved beneath her as he stroked against her bundle of nerves.

At first, he was gentle, barely any pressure. But as her hips began to buck more wildly, seeking release that had built over an eternal quarantine, his fingers followed her broken pacing.

She couldn’t understand the things he was uttering, but she managed to pick out her name, broken by grunts and the sound of flesh upon flesh.

 _Desperate_.

She needed delivery. As she had predicted, the fire within her welled up, threatening to consume them. He was helpless, pyre caught in her relentless path.

Was he aflame as she? Nerve-endings crying out in a sweet agony wherever he touched?

When they pulled apart, she wouldn’t be surprised to find delicate burns all across her body where he had lit her up.

It was unbearable. To hang on this precipice just toying with release. To look down at the pool of lava boiling beneath her, waiting to welcome her. All she needed to do was let go. But she wanted to hold onto these flashing sensations, brand them across her heart.

She watched where he disappeared into her body again and again with a reckless abandon. Sparks leapt across her skin with every sound he made, sounding less and less coherent.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted into her chest, sucking on her breast as he tried to bring her closer.

She could feel herself tightening, feel her inner muscles spasm, trying to capture him. Draw him to her. Soon, his hips bounced off the couch to meet hers, slightly out of synch. But it helped him reach her at different angles.

“I love the way you bounce,” he said, squeezing at her chest. She could feel the burden and aid of gravity on her body every time she moved, but seeing the wildness in his eyes, the flush in his face… She’d do it as many times as it took to have him a mixture of ash and putty in her hands.

“Faster, Cal. Please, faster, faster.”

He nodded, and his hand against her groin pressed forward just a bit from painful.

She cried out, “Callum!” as she erupted. She could almost feel the magma sliding across her skin, within her as her muscles moved in waves against his member. Her toes curled painfully as she wiggled in an attempt to process the sensory overload.

“Rayla,” he grunted, pumping into her a few more times before he found his own respite, shaky hands skimming across her slick body.

She collapsed on his chest, clutching at his shoulders as they both sought to catch their breath.

_Desperate._

Now that was a good word to describe how she felt nestled against him, still connected and working through the satiation flooding her veins.

“Quarantine is messed up,” she panted against his neck.

“How so?” he said, similarly trying to catch his breath.

“We literally brushed hands through fucking latex, and it was enough to give me very bad thoughts.”

“They weren’t so bad if we’re here, were they?”

She hated the smugness in his voice. “You were getting desperate too, huh?”

“Fuck me, I’m glad you didn’t take the gloves off. If I’d seen your knuckles? We would’ve never made it to the apartment.

She looked up at him through her lashes, smoldering in her chest leaping to attention. She very intentionally peeled away her gloves, flexing her fingers experimentally. “Does this… Rile you up?” A part of her was joking.

A larger part was not.

He moved her off her lap and onto her back. He pushed her legs aside, one over the edge of the couch top and another hooking around his shoulder. “Scandalous,” he breathed against her. His tongue swiped along her folds, and she found herself eager once more.

“Do that again?” she whimpered, hands tangling in her hair.

“Mm,” he hummed against her, vibrations going straight to her gut.

She could get used to this quarantine. Perhaps if only on the five fingers belonging to Callum, latex gloves weren’t so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> I mean. It is what it is.


End file.
